The Urgency of Now
by MsWriterTee
Summary: Inspired from "Hearts Still Beating," this is a tale of how Michonne inspires Rick to fight and how they, with the help of the neighboring communities, deal with the threat of Negan.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This is a one shot, but it could possibly turn into more. This story is a remix of the cell scene from "Hearts Still Beating." Much of the dialogue is the same. I generally don't use dialogue from a show, but that dialogue was fantastic, so I only tweaked it a bit. This being fanfiction, I also made a few additional changes I felt were warranted. Happy Reading!

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Michonne drew a deep breath as she approached the basement door. She had committed no crime, but standing on the other side of the wall that housed the unofficial ASZ Jail, she knew a true battle for freedom was about to be waged. There was so much she had to say, but no clue as to how to say it. This argument had to be made. Of that there was no escape.

Her stomach rippled uneasily. When it came to Rick, she had never felt nervous, but there was no denying that emotion had somehow seeped into her very pores. They'd never been tested like this before. The romantic change in their relationship was surprising, yet, not. She couldn't pinpoint when she fell in love with him, but his gift of mints, his second best to her requested toothpaste, brought about the mutual epiphany. She equated their love to the sun breaking through gray skies; always there beyond the surface, but just waiting for the right moment to make its presence known. Much like this moment. It was time for another change.

Returning to ASZ from her time for reflecting and discovering that two people she'd cared about had been murdered and one other forcibly taken away by Negan and the Saviors made clear what had to be done. This would not be easy, but easy hadn't been a frequent guest in their lives. Necessity trumped everything else. Being quiet, willing providers would no longer do. They had to fight. She believed in Rick. Somehow, someway, she had to make him believe in himself again, and what they could accomplish together.

With a quick intake of breath, she strode purposefully into the cell and found Rick on his knees staring intently at a sheet of paper, his trusty hatchet close by. Whatever held his attention so rapt would have to wait. "Carl told me you were here," she said, continuing her approach.

Rick moved swiftly to his feet and greeted her with a hug. Since those pre-dawn hours in the clearing, when Abraham and Glenn were so savagely ripped from the lives, there'd been an underlying level of tension between them. Not anger or hostility, just a persistent strain that was born of, bred, and thrived on one person - Negan. Though Rick clung to her, his body and soul silently screaming for the comfort she desperately wanted to give; Michonne could not provide that need at this moment. Something far more pressing was at hand. Steeling herself, she pulled out of his arms.

Hurt flashed across his handsome face. "Michonne…"

She pressed her hand to his lips, silencing his words. This was not rejection or a rebuke of him, but a desperate attempt to save him, them, and all those they loved. "I found what I was looking for," she readily explained. "I wanted to go with you and Aaron, but I couldn't. I had to go my way, to find my answer. My." She chuckled humorlessly. "When I found it, I realized I didn't want it to be _my_ answer or _my_ way. I wanted it to be ours." She pressed her finger into his chest and then her own. "You and me."

Rick swallowed audibly, his blue eyes intense, his attention laser-focused. His receptive response buoyed her. Her resolve strengthened. She could do this. "There are more of them, even more than we thought." Michonne recalled the scores of people, all the 'Negan,' the redhead had shown to her. It frightened her at first, but, now, coming home to the news of Spencer and Olivia, it made her determined. "We are outnumbered," she said, "it's not even close. But that doesn't change the way I feel, because it doesn't change the way things are. So much has happened, Rick, so much that we shouldn't have lived through: the Governor and fall of the prison, Terminus, all the weeks on the road and cutthroats we've encountered, and in spite of it, or maybe because of it, we did. We're still here, the two of us. We're still standing, and we're gonna keep standing. So, what do we do with that? How do we make that mean something?"

She'd asked the questions, and as she watched him soak in her words, she knew he was formulating an answer. The same answer she'd come upon during her short time away. She saw it again. It was a flicker, but present, that spark in his eyes that had been smothered by the torture and cruelty of Negan. She could bring that fire all the way back. She would bring it back. " ' _We're the ones who get things done,'_ " she said, punctuating every word with a poke to his chest. "You said that. _'We're the ones who live.'_ And we are. That's why we have to fight. Not for us, but for Judith, for Carl, for Alexandria, for the Hilltop - for _**all**_ of us. We can fight them, Rick. We can find a way to beat them, we can do this, but only if _**we**_ do this."

Rick nodded. "Yeah, I know that now." Cupping her cheek, he stepped forward, the light in his eyes bigger, brighter, and stronger than ever. "I know that now."

He lowered his head, possessively claiming her mouth with his. His tongue brushed eagerly against her lips, readily seeking hers. Settling into his fiery kiss, Michonne closed her arms around his head, her fingers threading his silky thick curls. Rick moaned low and deep and then slowly pulled away. His crystal blue eyes had taken on an almost cobalt quality. Something baser and rawer had joined the light that filled them moments before: pure unabashed desire. Michonne's pulse quickened. Talk about a turn-on. If the intense throbbing against her thigh didn't already tell the story, the seductive turn of his kiss-swollen lips definitely did. She returned his alluring smile. She was definitely all in.

In a flash, Rick had their belts unloosened and jeans in heaps around their ankles. Clutching her bottom, he pulled her into his arms and lowered her on his straining length in one swift motion. They cried out in mutual pleasure as he surged in and out of her depths. Michonne locked her legs around his waist and tightened her grip on his hair as he pounded deftly inside her. It had been way too long. Their physical relationship was still relatively new, but their way with each other was as old as time. Rick always knew what she wanted and just how she wanted it. And right now she wanted it rough, hard, and fast. He feasted hungrily on his lips, tearing his mouth away to kiss, nip, and suckle the throbbing pulse points of her neck, before coming back to her mouth for more.

Michonne's head swam as their tempo increased and the familiar stirring swelled inside her. She was spiraling to the shore, and was determined to bring him along with her. Their frenzied pace at its maximum peak, Michonne clenched tightly around him and arched her back.

A string of curses flew from Rick's lips as one final pump brought them to an intense mutual release. With her legs hanging loosely around him, Rick sank to the floor, his hands still gripping her rear.

Neither able to speak, they touched foreheads and smiled, trying mightily to catch their breath.

Soon thereafter, Rick pressed a kiss to her nose. "Thank you," he murmured, taking her hand and linking her fingers with his. "And I mean for everything."

Michonne's smile grew. She found Rick's 'aw shucks' country boy accent and manner so charming. Rick Grimes wasn't a perfect man, but he was the perfect man for her. "You don't have to thank me, Rick." She combed her fingers along the hair at his temple. Those chestnut brown curls with a light sprinkle of gray were an aphrodisiac in themselves. "I believe in you, and I am always with you. No matter what."

"You amaze me." He brushed a soft kiss to her lips. "Lori used to always say I didn't talk enough, share enough, and that's when things were supposedly good between us. Towards the end, it was so bad… I - I take responsibility for a lot of that," he said with a little nod of his head. "I wasn't fair to her, and after she died, I had a lot of guilt, a lot of it. I had a son with no mother and a new baby that wasn't mine to raise in this crazy new world, and a group of people who looked to me as their leader. I didn't know how I was going to do it. How I was going to make it. One day later, a bleeding and limping woman, carrying a basket of baby formula and surrounded by walkers, stumbled into our lives, and she showed me how." His fingers twined in her locs. "And then she showed me more. With you, I don't have to talk, but I want to. I love you, Michonne, and I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to know, Rick." She pecked his lips. "I love you, too, and I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm going to make sure of it. Negan and the Saviors took Eugene, but that paper over by my axe, that's his instructions on how to make bullets." Michonne glanced over at the sheet. No wonder he was so focused on it when she came in. "I made Negan a promise that morning in the clearing, and I mean to keep it." Michonne's heart swelled with love and pride. Take no prisoners Rick was back, primed, and ready for war. "I'm going to kill that bastard."

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 **~Thanks for Reading~**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note:**_ As suspected, this story got extended. This chapter is a little different, but I wanted to establish a few things and set some things into motion.

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"You have any last words?" Rick grunted. Talk about a loaded question, especially posed to this smug, overbearing asshole.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance," Negan barked, thrashing around like an angry snake as he fought against the restraints binding him securely to a tree.

"You definitely should have, because you'll never get that chance again." Rick watched the subdued tyrant as he struggled with the rope. The guy should give it up. There was no way he'd free himself. Rick glanced over at Michonne who gave him a little nod. He smiled. They had done it, and there was no denying the relief pumping through his veins.

It all happened much faster than he'd expected. Residents of ASZ, Hilltop, Kingdom, Oceanside, the strange black clothes and boot-wearing group Heath had come across, and scores of mistreated and unhappy Saviors had all come together to form a powerful army. Their mission the same, they worked together to take out the several dozen peons that had followed Negan like obedient puppies, and it led them to this moment: taking the man himself.

Rick studied the throng of people that surrounded him on every side. They weren't all battle-tested before, but they'd all stepped up bravely. They had lost a few people along the way, the sad cost of war, but they all believed the sacrifice was worth it, and the lost would always be remembered as heroes.

Negan continued to struggle, his back probably raw from rubbing against the tree. "This isn't over!"

"No, it's _**all**_ over, you smug piece of shit! You will never kill, torture, rape, or intimidate anyone else ever again." A reel of horrifying memories played in Rick mind. He could scarcely believe it had been less than two weeks since he'd met this monster of a man. "I'm going to end you, and I plan to make it as slow and painful as possible." Rick noticed Lucille at Negan's feet. He grunted as he picked up the bat. "I remember you calling this your dick once." He leveled the barbwire bat to Negan's crotch. The man swallowed audibly. "You've been a walking, talking dick for so long that it's way past time that this one and the other one got acquainted." Rick swung the bat.

* * *

 _ **Three days earlier…**_

Rick sighed contentedly as he spooned against Michonne. Sated, for the moment, he luxuriated in her nearness, her softness, and her devastating beauty. Though they were on a pallet and not their comfortable bed, thanks to those damn Saviors, this was still a perfect moment. Just the day before in the cell, for one terrifying moment, he thought she was going to leave him. That his decision to submit to Negan was too much for her to bear. And it was, but not how he thought. They were strong before, but even stronger now. He stroked her hair and dusted kisses along her back and shoulders. "I love you so much."

Michonne chuckled softly. "I know." She reached back, combing her fingers through his hair. "You just showed me how incredibly _**deep**_ your feelings go."

A guttural moan rumbled in his throat as she pressed her plush, perfect bottom against him. In one second flat he had another raging hard-on. This is what she did to him. From the moment on the couch when their fingers laced and eyes locked, he knew. This woman, warrior, survivor, his equal on every level, was also the greatest love of his life, and she'd been right in front of him for so long.

"You are insatiable," she said with a laugh, flipping to her back.

"And you are so damn beautiful." His mouth claimed hers in deep, promise-filled kiss before venturing further southward. He cupped her full, ripe breasts, laving her delectable rock-hard nipples with a brush of his tongue. "So sweet." She moaned deeply, calling his name. His cock throbbed almost painfully as her fingertips trailed languidly up and down his back. Rick couldn't wait to lose himself in his Michonne again, but not yet. Not yet.

Discarding the comforter, he continued on his journey, dusting kisses on her firm, flat tummy and swirling his tongue inside her navel before traveling further still. Finally he reached his desired destination. Rick dragged his fingers between her slick, delicate folds. "So wet." He slipped two inside her, moving them in and out. Her sighs grew deeper as she writhed against him. "So hot." He removed the slick fingers and brought them to his mouth, licking them voraciously. "Mmm. So, so good." He pulled back slightly and then raised and parted her knees, her heady scent calling to him. "More, please," he said, before lower his head and feasting like the starving man he was.

A lively selection of choice words spilled from Michonne as Rick's lips and tongue attacked her moist, sensitive flesh. Rick smiled. How he loved her demonstrative side. Sound-proof walls were a wonder. Her fingers raked through his scalp as she alternated between bringing him closer and pushing him back. "Oh, Rick! " She shimmied up on the pallet. "Please." She groaned.

"I'm going to," he answered, clasping her hips and bringing her back down. Finding her tight little nub, he suckled hungrily. Her grip on his hair increased. She was very close. The insertion of a finger sent her spiraling over the edge. Rick stayed in place, devouring everything she had to offer as she called his name and one other that in this instance wasn't in reference to the guy who'd introduced them to the Hilltop. This was definitely a religious experience for her. When Michonne's movements stilled and cries died down, he pressed a kiss inside her thigh. "Are you okay?"

"Better than," she answered, her gaze drifting to his pulsating erection. "But I see you're not." Michonne pushed him onto the pallet and bent his left leg.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking care of your problem," she said, straddling his bent leg and mounting him in reverse.

For several seconds all Rick saw was stars. Buried inside her to the hilt, her hot sex pressed flush against his pelvis, and her gorgeous backside in full view of his appreciative eyes, she knew he was an ass man, it was all he could do to keep from blowing his load on the spot. "Goddamn!"

Michonne placed her hand on his chest and looked over her shoulder, smiling down at him as she started a slow grind. Rick reached for her breasts, squeezing and caressing the fleshy mounds as she drove him to the near side of madness. Nothing ever felt so good. Michonne got wetter. Her movements increased and her moans deepened. "Mmm, Rick." She closed her eyes and licked her lips. He wanted to prolong the moment, but that was not to be. She was getting close again, too.

Rick lowered a hand to her leg, urging her movements. "Come on, Michonne." He drove his hips against her as she continued her frenetic grind. "That's it, baby. Give it to me. Give it to me!" And did she ever. His legs seized and toes curls as he erupted inside her again and again and again. Moments later, Michonne cried out and collapsed against him, her body quivering in orgasmic pleasure.

When their breathing returned to normal, Rick returned to his position as the big spoon. He buried his face in her berry-scented hair. "That was mind-blowing."

She closed her hands around his forearm, holding it close to her chest. "I wanted to show you the depths of my feelings, too."

"You succeeded."

"I really love you, Rick."

"I really love you, too, Michonne." He kissed her cheek. "So very much."

Michonne turned onto her back, gazing deeply into his eyes. "I want to tell you about someone," she said. "His name is Andre."

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 **Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

The words came effortlessly, as did the tears. Sitting next to her on the pallet, the covers draped haphazardly around them, Rick listened without interruption. He held her hand, wiped her tears, and let her unburdening be the therapy she needed. His support and strong presence just a couple of things Michonne loved so much about him.

She didn't cry when she first told Carl about Andre, as telling Carl was more about helping Carl. The prison had just fallen, they believed Judith to be dead, and Hershel had been killed before their eyes. All this less than a year before he had shot his mother to keep her from turning. She had to get Carl's mind off his hurt, to get him to concentrate on something else. So, she tried to make him laugh, mentioned her ability to entertain toddlers, and then told him about her son. Her sweet Andre Anthony.

Telling Carl _how_ Andre died, that had brought the tears. Thinking about it brought the tears. Because losing him was senseless. Because Mike had been selfish. Selfish, weak, and high. Her anger for what he'd done blinded her to everything else. Mike, the man she'd loved and had fathered her son had cost her that son. To let him and his best friend, Terry, turn, to allow them to become the monsters she believed them to be, was the only thing that made sense. But it was all so far from sensible.

"I was blinded by rage, shattered with grief, and all alone. But not by myself. I left the ruins of that camp and carried Mike and Terry around as a reminder of what I'd lost. Of what this new world had taken away from me, and what they had taken from me. Soon, I realized they were protection. They made me invisible, concealing me from the monsters all around. For three months, that was my life. Then, I met Andrea. About nine months later I met you, Carl, and Judith." She paused, considering the irony in those words. "Somehow, that timeframe is fitting. I had just gone through the most grueling, physically taxing emotional experience, and at the end of it I had a new life."

"And baby formula," Rick said, giving her the laugh he knew she needed. "We can't forget that."

"No, we can't." Michonne gazed deeply into his piercing blue eyes. Rick had stolen the biggest piece of her heart. Now, she had given him another piece of it. The piece that carried her baby boy.

"I've always been in awe of you, Michonne, but to learn about Andre and all you'd been through after losing him, you amaze me all the more." He brushed her lips kiss with his. "I wish I could've known him. I'm sorry for what you had to go through, and that you had to go through it alone for so long, but you will never be alone again. Your way with Carl and Judith, how you've been a mother to them. It was because you were a mother. You _are_ a mother." His brow rose curiously. "I kinda thought you were a teacher."

She chuckled. "What?"

"Yeah, I did. I've watched you. How you are with Carl and Judith and the way you look at paintings and practically lose yourself in the images on canvas. You're so smart. I kinda figured you were an elementary school art teacher or maybe you taught preschool. Something with art and children." His head tilted. "Am I right?"

"Somewhat," she answered. "Your deductive cop skills are still sharp, Rick, but I wasn't a teacher. I was an art curator."

"Art curator?" he mouthed.

Michonne smiled. The look on his face was priceless. "It was a very demanding job," she explained. "Very rewarding and enriching. I never realized how useful knowledge of art history would be post-apocalypse."

"When we got here you hung your katana on the wall."

"Finding it was beneficial in many ways. It provided protection while allowing me to hold on to a part of who I was. It's a deadly weapon, but it's exquisite."

"You would definitely know exquisite." He grazed his knuckles against her cheek. "When I think I couldn't possibly love you more, you surprise me."

She held his hand to her chest. "I never imagined I could be this happy again. Yes, we have some things to take care of, but…"

"I know what you mean. I feel the same way. But I can't – I can't even say 'again,' because I've never been as happy, as complete, as in love with anyone as I am with you. You're the best part of me."

Her breath caught as he leaned over and kissed her. His words and the gentle caress of his lips to hers like the flutter of a butterfly's wing to her heart. Rick had the ability to make her feel like the most sensual woman and hopeless schoolgirl at the same time. Her cheeks warmed when he pulled away.

Rick smirked. "You're blushing."

"How would you know?" she quipped.

"The same way I knew you were passionate about art." He kissed her nose. "I know you." Rick groaned as she stretched his arms above his head and then closed them around her. "I also know we have a big day tomorrow with Jesus taking us to this kingdom and Tara taking us to the women of Oceanside. So, we need to get some rest."

" _You_ want to get rest?"

Rick laughed. "Oh, you know what I want," he said, tickling her sides and evoking squeals of laughter as he nibbled amorously at her neck and breasts. "But, we _should_ get some rest. We're heading out in a few hours."

Michonne nestled in his arms when they settled under the covers. "You think we can convince them to join us?"

"I feel pretty confident about this king and his kingdom, but the way Tara talked about Oceanside, it could go either way. They're afraid, but they have as much reason to hate Negan as we do. Hell, they have even more. Maggie hiding guns from the outpost in the tunnel helps, because we won't go in at a disadvantage. We've just got to get them to listen. And you're very persuasive."

"You're biased."

"Damn right, but you're still persuasive," he said with a kiss. "Seriously, things went well at Hilltop today. Gregory is an ass, but we got him on board. Tomorrow will go well, and Negan, he's going to hate he ever crossed our path."

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 ** _Three days later, back in the clearing..._**

Rick stopped the bat fractions of an inch from the screaming man's crotch. A growing liquid stain spread in the front of Negan's jeans. Pleased, Rick smiled. Fear was exactly what he wanted to inspire. He wanted this monster's last moments to be as torturous as possible. "Looks like we've returned to Pee-Pee Pants City," he jeered with an over-emphasized mocking laugh. "I haven't even hit you yet." Rick shook his head as he walked around the tree, checking the ties that held Negan bound. The double-layered ropes tied him at the wrists, bend of his elbows, knees, and ankles. Good and tight. He faced Negan again, holding Lucille to the man's head. "I think I'll save this for later." Dropping the bat, Rick drew every ounce of strength he possessed, and kicked Negan in the groin.

Women cheered and men grimaced as Negan slumped, screaming in agony.

Rick grabbed him by the hair. "That's for all the women you've raped over the years. And I am just getting started." He looked over his right shoulder and Michonne approached. "Thanks to Richard from The Kingdom, your right hand, Simon, has been dealt with." He wrapped his arm around her waist. "This is my right hand. Well, she's a lot more than that, but you get it. Your people touched her. Put her hair on a walker." Rick shuddered at the memory. That moment, finding Michonne's locs and vest on a walker, the realization they had her was the most terrifying moment of his life. The scope of this group's power, its reach, it frightened him. Not a lot scared him, but that did.

Getting Michonne back, after losing Glenn and Abraham and being pushed to the point of almost mutilating his son, it changed him. It made keeping her safe and protecting the others he loved his only focus. Sadly, it was very much to their detriment. But thanks to Michonne, because of her love and belief in him, he'd rediscovered his fight and he and Michonne had never been stronger or closer. Now, here they all were, the victims of Negan's brutality, galvanized and in control of their lives once more.

"For agonizingly long hours I didn't know where or how she was," Rick said, bringing her closer. "Your people did that, _you_ did that, and that was a big mistake." Rick glowered at the groaning, whimpering man. "Michonne, let's take his other right hand, huh?"

"My pleasure," Michonne said, wielding her katana.

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 **Author's Note: Thanks for reading and replying. The interest in this story has been inspiring!**


	4. Chapter 4

Michonne couldn't count the number of times she'd pulled her katana from the scabbard. The fling of the blade leaving the sheath was a familiar sound, and generally preceded an act that was one of necessity to keep her or those she loved safe. At this moment, the sound was that and so much more. It's was like a ballad that she, Rick, and all those who surrounded them had composed. The Negan Song. The lyrics were painful, but the music so sweet.

She had never been so happy to hurt to someone in her life. Even when she'd stabbed the governor, and she'd desperately wanted to kill him, the fact the man was strangling Rick is what prompted her into action. This moment - this was a pleasure. A necessary pleasure, but pleasure all the same. Blood lust was strong among the masses tonight. Even the hooting owls and chirping crickets seemed overstimulated this evening.

This place and that night had held such horrors. It was barely two weeks ago, but it felt like she'd been living with it for a lifetime. After tonight, the terrors that haunted this clearing would be somewhat exorcised. Nothing could ever change what happened, but the losses they'd suffered would not be in vain.

Michonne left Rick's side, quickly covering the few feet that separated her from her task. Negan writhed and groaned in agony, but she had more sympathy for the growling, feral dogs they were compelled to eat while on the road. With a quick swing of her sword, tendons, bones, and blood vessels separated, and Negan's right hand dropped to the ground. His anguished cries pierced the night air. Cheers erupted.

"You're not taking this like a champ," Michonne retorted, remembering the man's mocking words as he slaughtered Abraham. With another swing of the blade, she chopped off Negan's middle finger and stuffed the bloody digit in his mouth, busting his lips in the process. "I've wanted to give you the finger for a long time, you demented son of a bitch!"

Only the ties binding him kept him from slumping to the ground. Unconsciousness was close, but that would be merciful, and they wanted him awake for all of his punishment. Michonne flung the blood off the blade, speckling Negan's face, before leaving him with another kick to his crotch. The finger dropped to the ground as he cried out in unyielding discomfort. He was more alert now. She wanted to take his other hand or an ear or his nose, but there were many people and communities that deserved a shot at doling out retribution, and watching the man suffer felt pretty damn good.

"Good job," Rick whispered, slapping her a low five as she returned to her spot beside Carl and Maggie, Sasha, and Jesus made their way to Negan.

Shiva, the pet tiger of 'King' Ezekiel roared and paced anxiously around her master. Watching her rip the man to shreds would be fun, but over way too fast. The mammoth cat would have to wait for whatever remained of Negan when they were all through.

A tiger thriving in this strange new world was the last thing Michonne ever expected she'd see, but that was before she and Rick met the 'king' Jesus had told them about. That meeting brought on a whole lot of unexpected surprises: good, bad, and sad.

Two days earlier…

Rick checked his watch and sighed impatiently. He and Michonne had been waiting in the large auditorium over fifteen minutes. Sasha, Daryl, and Rosita had gone ahead with Tara in approaching the women of Oceanside, but he wanted to talk to these women, too. To let them know they didn't have to be afraid anymore. That even if they couldn't see their way clear to helping fight Negan, there existed men in the world who didn't slaughter children and intimidate women. "What is taking Jesus so long?" he said with a groan.

"He's talking to a king," Michonne answered, staring curiously at the castle mural along the front wall. "Maybe His Highness is holding court."

" _Not so, fair maiden, but not a bad guess,"_ said an attractive dreadlocked black man, entering the room from the far left side with Jesus and a very large man in tow.

This place was like a medieval storybook in 3-D, it even had a throne, but most of the kings Rick remembered from picture books were fat old white dudes. This guy wasn't at all what he'd had in mind.

"I am King Ezekiel, and…"

The man's words stopped when Michonne turned to face him. They both gasped in surprise.

"Zeke!" Michonne shrieked, leaping into the man's arms.

Rick blinked, his ears ringing from Michonne's scream and the amazing acoustics in this building. Zeke? How did she know this guy?

"Michonne Perrault!" Ezekiel spun her around and around. "I can't believe this."

Lips pursed, Rick watched the little exchange. Why was Michonne so excited about seeing him, and why was this guy spinning his woman? For the 'king's' benefit, he'd better be her brother or a cousin.

Ezekiel returned Michonne to her feet. "It's so good to see you again." He pressed his hand to her cheek. "Unbelievable, but so wonderful. You look wonderful!"

Michonne nodded and smiled. "You, too, Zeke. Oh, I can't believe it." She gave him another quick hug. "I never thought I'd ever see someone I knew from before again. It doesn't happen."

"I know."

Rick cleared his throat, way past ready to find out just how well Michonne knew this guy. "You say you knew each other from before?"

"He's practically my brother." Rick grunted. That word didn't please him. 'Practically' meant he wasn't family, yet he was way too familiar with Michonne. And any brother who looked at his sister the way this guy was eyeballing his Michonne should be shot, and Rick did have his Colt back. "Our parents were best friends," she explained. "We've known each other forever, grew up together. When exactly did you become royalty?"

"My ascent to the throne transpired when the world as we once knew it became no more." Ezekiel finally tore his eyes from Michonne. "Sir Richard, I presume?"

"Just Rick," he answered, closing his arm around Michonne's waist and bringing her close. If _Zeke_ didn't already have a clue, Rick was determined to give him at least one. "Once things get settled, we'll have to invite your _old pal_ to _our house_ for dinner, Michonne." She turned to him, her brow raised curiously. Rick shrugged. He was being possessive, but Michonne was his. "I offered because I knew you would love the idea, sweetheart."

Jesus chuckled as Michonne scoffed. "Right, dear," she said.

Ezekiel's lips twitched with a wry smile. "I pray my delay didn't trouble you for too long. Sir Paul held me rapt with details of your plight."

"Zeke, let's lose the king speak. You know why we're here. We need your help. Jesus told us that your community has had trouble with Negan, too. If we all band together, we can stop him."

"Are you going to help us?" Rick asked.

"He wasn't too receptive when –"

Ezekiel's raised hand silenced Paul Rovia's words. "You wish this, Michonne?" he said, making his way to his throne with his bodyguard in close step.

"For all of us, yes," she answered with a nod. "It's the only way."

"Then you shall have complete access to the warriors of my kingdom. I shan't deny you anything, although I find myself questioning the wisdom of this undertaking." His eyes cut to Rick. "Negan is not one to be trifled with."

"I'm not going to trifle with him, I'm going to kill him," Rick stated in no uncertain terms. "Thanks for the help." He meant those words sincerely, but he was very ready to get Michonne away from Ezekiel and his undressing eyes. He clasped Michonne's hand. "We should get going."

"I beg a few more moments of your time," Ezekiel said, standing abruptly. "There is someone I wish you to meet. Joey, make haste and bring Morgan to me." The man nodded and departed. "The newest member of our realm is a wizard with the staff. He has been training one of our young soldiers, and I feel he could be of use in the raising of your army. He is quite remarkable."

Michonne's gaze met Rick's. Clearly she was thinking what he was. "Staff?" Rick repeated. "How long has he been with you?"

"Just shy of a fortnight. You know of him?"

"He's my friend."

"Did you know his acquaintance, Carol, as well?"

"Did we?" Michonne said, the man's use of the past tense not escaping her, either.

Ezekiel sighed sorrowfully. "I am sorry; she perished soon after she arrived."


	5. Chapter 5

Michonne fought the burning sting of tears as she and Rick gazed at the wooden cross and mound of dirt marking Carol's final resting place. About half a mile away from the center of activity in Ezekiel's kingdom, the pretty spot boasted a pond, shady trees, and a bountiful field of wildflowers. Tranquil and serene, the location offered the two things Carol didn't have a lot of at the end.

"Damn," Rick muttered softly, bringing her into his arms and holding her close. "This didn't have to happen."

"She shouldn't have left." Losing the battle, Michonne succumbed to her tears. Not certain she was crying out of anger, sadness, or equal portion of both. She pressed her teary face into Rick's chest, needing his comfort as she offered him hers. Somehow, in the back of her mind, when she heard Carol had left, she knew she wouldn't see her again. That disappearing, separating herself from the reality of this new world had to be achieved, but Michonne didn't think it would be like this. She sniffled. "It's like Carol wanted – that she wanted to…"

"Yes." Rick smoothed away her tears and kissed her forehead. "I think it's exactly what she wanted."

"It is," Morgan said, dropping a small bouquet of wildflowers on the grave. "She was like I was when you came back to town for those guns." Michonne stiffened, wondering if he'd bring up that protein bar again. "I wanted it over, but you wouldn't let that happen. Carol wanted it over. She begged that man, the Savior who had shot her, to kill her. I had to kill that man to keep him from killing her, and those non-fatal gunshot wounds gave her a blood clot that was." He sighed deeply. "At least she's at peace now."

"How does this fit into your circle of life, Morgan?"

"Aikido keeps me grounded, Rick. It keeps me breathing. Like I told you, I can't say whether it's right or wrong, it just is what it is. I don't want to kill, I've come to terms with that, but I understand it is necessary. Carol got lost in what that meant, and that was her struggle. Killing became almost sport to her. It became her purpose, and then it destroyed her, just like it almost destroyed me. I know killing this man, this Negan is necessary. If we had killed him, the head, when you had suggested it at the church, Carol would still be alive. Glenn, Abraham, Denise, Olivia, and Spencer would all be alive. Life is a circle, but the circle can't have blocks. Negan is a block in the circle of life, and he must be removed."

"So, you're in?"

Morgan nodded. "I'm in. I stayed here after Carol died because Ezekiel wanted me to train one of his soldiers, but this is a good place."

Rick's body tensed with the mention of Ezekiel's name. Michonne couldn't believe his behavior earlier. They definitely needed to talk. "Are you going to stay here?" he asked.

"I'm considering it."

"I see."

"King Ezekiel is a character, but he's a good leader, and his people respect him. This is a place we can work with, Rick, and staying can help forge a relationship with the communities, so that's a good thing. I have to meet with Benjamin now." Morgan took off down the path to the kingdom. "And, Michonne?" He stopped and turned around. "Rick told me you took the protein bar." With a little chuckle, he continued on.

"It was closure," Rick said before she uttered a word. "He was going off to find Carol, and I wasn't sure I'd see him again, and you did lie right to his face when he'd asked, so…"

"I don't care about that."

"So what's with the little crinkle right here," he said, sliding his thumb on the spot between her eyebrows. "I only see that when you're ticked." He groaned. "Zeke?"

"Are you seriously jealous?"

He scoffed. "Jealous? Am I jealous? "

"Are you?"

"No. Not jealous, not really." She crossed her arms, waiting patiently for more. Rick sighed. "What I am is aware of and unhappy with his _appreciation_ of you. I don't take your love for me for granted, and I don't need to have anyone tell me how lucky I am to have you, so the way Ezekiel looks at you warrants the response he stirs in me."

"Rick, I only have eyes for you. I only want you."

"I trust that, Michonne, and I know he feels like a brother to you, but he looks at you the way I look at you, and only someone who is blind or an idiot would think that's a look a brother reserves for his sister."

"Why does it sound like you just called me an idiot?"

He smirked. "I never would." Pulling her close, he kissed her deeply. "I'm madly in love with you, Sis," Rick said with a laugh, pulling her into an embrace. "I just wanted to make it plain to him that you are not available."

"I think you succeeded." She caressed his cheek. "Zeke is a bit flirtatious, but it's his way. If it makes you feel better, I'll talk to him."

"Don't bother. I trust you. I just don't completely trust him."

"Not yet."

"No, not yet. But we definitely need his help, and these people will be a big help." Rick shook his head as he looked at Carol's grave. "This is the last thing Daryl needs, and Tobin is already feeling so guilty. How am I going to tell them?"

"We'll do it together. We'll all get through this together." She pressed a kiss to his hand. "Come on, we need to get to Oceanside."

* * *

 _ **Back in the clearing…**_

Faces blurred and voices faded as he slipped in and out of consciousness. White hot pain riddled what remained of his body. Negan thought nothing could be worse than that first kick and his hand being severed from his arm, but it had gotten so much worse.

He'd seen dead people. That Maggie, the woman from Rick's group the creepy preacher said was dead. She'd cut his face. And Daryl, Dwight said he had killed him when he tried to escape, but he'd shoved feces into his mouth. _"Eat my shit!"_ Negan shuddered, remembering the words just before the man scalped him. Had he gone to hell? It felt like it. Perhaps he was hallucinating. He couldn't tell.

Could burning in a lake of fire be worse than what he felt at this moment? Blood trickled from his head and stung his eyes. Vomit and urine mingled with the blood covering him. He was certain. Nothing could be worse than this.

His arms being bound behind him had proven to be somewhat of a blessing. Michonne had sliced off his hand, but that Sasha, she had taken his sweet Lucille and pounded his remaining hand to nothing. He felt the first two hits, and then nothing. Carl, Aaron, Rosita, and Eugene had taken great pleasure in using Rick's hatchet to cut off his feet and legs.

Person after person came up to him, spit on him, kicked him, cut him, beat him, and burned him. Mark, one of his own, branded his face with a hot iron to the cheers of the masses. Yes, he had done the same to Mark, but he had shown restraint and kept Mark alive. He had been decent.

No one had shown him any decency. They had hurt him, but kept him breathing. Kept him alert with icy water and hot oil, made readily available by the good preacher who insisted he was doing God's work. They kept him in pain.

A group of women kept throwing salt all over him, inflaming the fresh wounds scarring his body. They'd said he'd killed their men and every boy over ten. He didn't remember that, but he'd done a lot of things he hadn't remembered. The problem, these people never forgot. Was it too late for him? He was still alive, barely, but that mattered. "Please," he muttered. "Please, stop."

"Did you say stop?" Rick said, squatting before him. "Don't worry, it's all going to stop real son."

"I'll be better. I'll change. I will."

"Things are already better, and you've changed a whole lot in the last hour or so. A change everyone here knows is for the better. Am I right?"

The group answered in the affirmative.

"You see, unlike you, I am merciful. I considered burning you alive, but I'm just going to shoot you in the heart. Then Shiva, that's the tiger, she'll snack on the rest of you." Rick stood and pulled his gun from the holster. "Now, it's time for me to keep my promise."

* * *

 **Author's Note: The next chapter should conclude this story. A new tale could possibly rise from the ashes, but time will tell.**

 **Thanks to all who've shown such interest in this story, it's truly appreciative!**


	6. Chapter 6 Conclusion

_**The night before the battle…**_

Rick groaned. "I miss our bed."

Michonne chuckled as she nestled snuggly in his arms. "Those romantic words really keep the afterglow burning bright, Rick," she quipped, kissing his chest. "I've actually grown fond of our love pallet. And as long as we're together, I don't care where or what we sleep on."

"You always say the right thing." Rick kissed her forehead. The closer they got to having their lives back, the more he thought of the future. And the future was very close. The women from Oceanside were on board, Heath had made it back to Alexandria with the aid of a large group of young fighters who were willing to join the battle, and Jesus Rovia with his stealth ways had slipped into the Saviors' compound and filled Eugene in on the plan. Everything for the war was in place, and now was the time to do the same for his life. From that moment on the couch when their fingers locked, eyes met, and the lightning bolt struck, Rick knew what he needed, and it had been right in front of him for so long. Michonne. His beautiful Michonne. "But when you get pregnant, you'll have to be comfortable." He held his breath as he waited for her response to his words.

Michonne shot up. "When I what?" she said.

He released the breath with a smile. He'd never seen her eyes so big. "Things are going to change tomorrow. We're going to get back the life that Negan and the Saviors stole, but it's going to be life even better than what we had before. I've seen it in my dreams, and I want to make it a reality for you and me. To make that happen, there's a couple of things I have to do first."

"Like get me pregnant?"

"I might've taken care of that just now, but I'm more than willing to keep working at it," he said, gingerly sliding his hand up and down her side. "I know we haven't talked about this, but…"

"You want a baby?"

"I want to live, and you are my life, Michonne." Sitting up, Rick swallowed audibly as he took her hands in his. A swarm of butterflies invaded his stomach and floated northward to his heart. His chest expanded with adoration. He loved her so much. "From that moment on the couch, our moment, you've been my wife."

"Rick." A tear slid down her cheek.

"No one has ever gotten me like you do." He smoothed away her tears. "Nobody supports me and checks me like you do. Even things I don't want to hear, you put it out there because you know what I need. When I was drowning in the pool of darkness that Negan had tossed us into, you threw me a lifeline and brought me back into the light. No one has ever loved me like you love me, unconditionally and unapologetically, and I have never nor will I ever love anyone the way I love you." He drew a deep breath and slowly let it go. "It feels a little strange to be asking the woman who already feels like my wife to marry me, and, yes, I'm feeling a bit nervous, but that's what I'm doing and asking." He moved to a kneeling position. "Michonne Perrault, will you marry me?"

She shrugged. "Hmm, I don't know." Rick smirked. She was so saying yes, but he would let her have her fun. "You like to make love with the lights on."

"Guilty." Rick laughed. "You're beautiful." He combed his fingers through her lovey locs. "I like to look at you when I'm loving you," he said, playing along with her little game.

"You squeeze toothpaste from the middle of the tube. Carl does the same thing. Poor Judith will probably do it, too." She bounced her hand off her forehead and scoffed dramatically. "To live with that forever and have it be the fate of our future children. Tsk, tsk. You ask a lot, Rick Grimes."

"Uh-huh. And I'm the lucky guy you give it all to." He pecked her lips. "Can I have my 'yes' now?"

"I guess I'm willing to spare sixty years or so on conversion techniques." Michonne brought him into her arms, hugging him tight. "Yes, of course I will marry you." She kissed his nose. "You've felt like my husband since that night, too," she said, combing her fingers through his hair.

"So, we'll make it official." Rick lowered her onto the pallet. "And then we'll start putting some buns in the oven," he said, trailing kisses from her neck to her stomach. His heart swelled at the idea of Michonne being pregnant with his child. He couldn't wait.

"Rick." She tapped his shoulder. "Just how much bread are you planning to bake?"

He looked up at her with a smile. "Remember the show Eight is Enough?"

* * *

 _ **The clearing…**_

Rick stared at Negan's bleeding, bruised, and disassembled body. He'd seen rotting walkers he'd felt more sympathy for. This man had earned every kick, cut, punch, and burn he'd received. He'd earned more. Rick knew he would get even more pleasure killing him again once he turned.

"Don't…don't," Negan mumbled.

"Stop!" Rick pointed his Colt. "You can't see how bad you look, but these wounds are going to kill you. I'm taking you out of your misery, bringing peace to this world, and keeping the promise I made after you killed Glenn and Abraham. Look at the people around you." Rick motioned to crowd surrounding them. "There are over a hundred people out here, and you have hurt every single one of them. You didn't have to. You could've been decent, but you were deadly. Deadly and cruel and it made you smile. You are a sick bastard, inhuman, and that's why I don't feel bad for you or about anything that was done here tonight. No one is going to miss you. No one is going to mourn you. We're all going to celebrate the freedom being rid of you will bring and we're going to live." His eyes met Michonne's and they shared a smile. "We're going to live. And life is going to start for us right now." Rick fired his gun, and Negan gurgled his last breath.

* * *

 _ **Two months later…**_

Rick and Michonne sat at the foot of their bed, staring at the alarm clock. Dwight, his wife, and several other helpful Saviors had been killed in battle, but the remaining workers that had been under Negan's thumb were more than willing to part with the surplus of goods the tyrannical dictator had been storing. The main base had a warehouse that was like a shopper's paradise. Weapons, medicine, mattresses, furniture, jewelry, clothes, food and everything in between was stocked six and seven pallets high. Finding their burned out mattresses on the side of the road had shown Michonne how malicious the Saviors could be, but now she and Rick had a brand new king-size bed to go along with their six-week-old marriage, a very tasteful platinum wedding set, and maybe, just maybe, one more brand new thing.

"How much longer?" Rick asked, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Ninety seconds."

"Still?" He groaned.

"It takes three minutes."

He raked his fingers through his hair and frantically tapped his foot. Michonne touched his knee, battling a wave a nausea his constant motion exacerbated. "Rick, please. "

"I'm sorry, sweetie." He kissed her cheek. "I'm just anxious."

The alarm sounded and they leapt from the bed, racing to the bathroom. Michonne squealed. "It's a plus!"

Rick swooped her into his arms. "We're pregnant?"

"We're pregnant!"

 **~The End~**

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you all for taking this ride with me. Happy Valentine's Day, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!**


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